


Fallen Crown

by AA_Batteries



Series: MCYT Oneshots [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Death, Friendship, I'm Sorry, King George - Freeform, Late Night Writing, Loss, Loyalty, M/M, Pain, Panic, Sad, Worry, blame my friends they told me to go through with it, idk this idea just happened so ya..., knight dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AA_Batteries/pseuds/AA_Batteries
Summary: When a rebellion starts Dream rushes to protect his King. He can only hope he'll get there in time.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: MCYT Oneshots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092065
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Fallen Crown

**Author's Note:**

> I was tired and my brain is weird ok.

Dream strode towards the tall oak doors that lead into the castle looking over the shattered kingdom around it. He didn’t look at the guards at the gate as he entered the courtyard, even as one of them gave a small wave to him as he passed. They didn’t know what was about to happen. They didn’t know what was _ already _ happening. He had to make sure to reach the King and tell him before it was too late. He needed to get him to safety.

That was his job as the Head knight of the King. Since a young age he had been tasked with protecting the young prince as he grew up and became the ruler of this land. Dream had always been by George’s side and he always would be. He would always protect him.

Dream kept his hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword as he pushed open the doors to the castle, looking around the dimly lit space. The torches on the wall flickered ominously, casting disturbing shadows and shapes along the walls. The red glow of the sunset peeked its way through the windows, managing to paint the whole room in an eerie blood-like shade. Dream’s careful footsteps echoed in the empty halls, and behind his mask his brows furrowed in concern. It was too quiet.

_ There were supposed to be guards here. _

He started walking faster, worry coursing through his veins. Dream was aware that he was probably overreacting. There should be no reason for true concern. The guards were just rotating, or they had been called elsewhere. The rebellion outside the castle walls had just begun. There was no way they could have already made it here. It simply wasn’t possible that they had made it here before him.

Right?

His usual calm attitude shattered as he started running towards the King’s chambers. He had to make sure he was safe. His metallic boots pounded heavily against the floor, the walls echoing with the sound. Anyone would know he was coming should they be listening, but he wasn’t worried about stealth, only about making sure the king was safe and sound within his room. He whirled around the corner, seeing the door to his destination. Running up to it, he wrapped his gloved fingers around the handle and attempted to tug it open. It was locked, not moving a millimeter from its place tight against the stone walls of the palace. He quickly started pounding on the door, the hollow sound of his knocking ringing through the halls. He needed to get in. He needed to see the king safe.

“Your Majesty? Are you alright?” Dream asked through the thick wood, voice filled with barely masked concern. After a few seconds of receiving no response he tried again, “George?”

The only response he was given was once again that of worrying silence. He bit his cheek, thinking for a moment of how to get in the room, desperation filling him as his eyes darted about the hall he was in. This place was secluded, nowhere near any other rooms so Dream wouldn’t be able to find anything to open the door with that might be stored in one. Looking around he spotted an ax on the wall, reflective surface shimmering in the light of the flickering torches in the hall. He quickly grasped it, taking it down from its elaborate mount, likely meaning it’s more a decoration than a tool, but Dream turned to face the door regardless, just needing to get in. With a vicious roar he brought the weapon down, splintering the wood around the handle and lock. The door creaked open slightly and he dropped the ax to the floor without grace, prying the heavy door open quickly.

“George?” he asked the room, blinking a few times to adjust to the light of the red sun streaming directly into the windows. He scanned the room, noting that nothing looked out of place at first glance. Everything was left just how he remembered it's always been. An uneasy feeling in his gut made him frown though, and he looked around again.

He spotted something out of the corner of this eye. Something metallic glinted out from under the closet door, the sun hitting it in just the right way, causing it’s reflection to stab directly into Dream’s eyes. He slowly walked towards the closet door, pulling his sword out of its sheath a few centimeters. The door, upon closer inspection, was left just slightly open. Strange.

Dream grabbed the handle of the door, exhaling quietly as his shoulders tensed. He then yanked it open, ready to attack anyone who might be hiding inside. But no one seemed to be there. Looking inside, nothing but rows of dress shirts and pants stared back at him. Everything seemed in place save for the pile of clothing thrown into one corner. He knelt down near the pile, reaching a hand into it as he started to dig through it. He was not prepared for the feeling of flesh to be under the fabric mound.

He inhaled sharply, pulling the rest of the cloth away. There, lying cold and still, was his King, George. Shallow breaths escaped George’s lips, and Dream nearly cried from relief that he was alive. He started pulling him out of the closet, picking him up and holding him gently to his armored chest. He set George on his bed gently, kneeling down beside him. He looked fine on his front, no injury visible. Dream reached out a hand to try and wake him up but froze. His hands started to shake as he looked at his glove. A red ink coated it, shimmering in the quickly fading light of day.

“No,” he said quietly. He quickly turned George so he could see his back. It was not a pretty sight. There, just below his King’s neck, was a deep wound, blood seeping from it. Bone is just visible. Dream felt the blood drain from his face. He grabbed one of the stray pieces of clothing he had found George tucked beneath and pressed it desperately against the wound. “George please, you have to be ok,” he rasped, holding back the tears that pooled in the eyes that his mask hid.

A soft groan sounded from George and Dream let a sob escape from his lips, “George? George can you hear me?”

“Dream?” George responded, voice weak and hoarse, “Why are you here? Where are you?”

“I’m right behind you. Don’t worry,” the knight replied, still attempting to stop the bleeding.

George coughed, body jerking with it. He raised a hand to his lips, touching them lightly. As George pulled his hand away, Dream saw what covered his fingertips.

Blood, deep and red, stained George’s skin. He pressed his fingers together, almost childishly curious as he watched the way the thick liquid stuck together, gluing his fingers as it dried. Dream watched George in shocked silence.

“I’m bleeding,” George stated quietly. He coughed again, more blood dripping from his lips. His body quivered just slightly, “Why is it so cold?”

Dream trembled, breaths shaky as he continued to hold back the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. He carefully pulled the blankets of the bed up over George, wrapping them snugly around his small frame. “Is that any better?” Dream asked, voice breaking.

George nodded, not seeming to notice Dream’s distress. He tried to turn to see his friend, but doesn’t seem able to do so, “Dream? Can you come over here? I want to see you,” George’s speech is slightly slurred, sounding tired.

Dream quickly walked around the bed and placed himself in front of George. George smiled as Dream came into view, eyes just barely open. His blood stained lips opened as he started to talk again, “Why did you come here, Dream? Was there something you needed to tell me?” he spoke quietly, barely a whisper.

“No. Nothing important.” Dream said, taking off a glove and grabbing Georges hand. He stroked a thumb across his friend’s knuckles. George’s fingers were cold, he noticed, almost icy.

George hummed a half answer, reaching a hand out to Dream’s mask, “Can you take that off? I want to see your eyes. I haven’t seen your eyes in so long,” he said, running his fingers along the smooth white surface. He left bright red streaks behind as his blood stained the pristine mask. Dream didn’t seem to care that George’s blood stained his mask, quickly obliged to George’s request and unhooked the mask. He caught it as it fell and set it to the side. His green eyes shone with unshed tears and he gave George a weak smile.

George’s smile broadened before he coughed again, grimacing as he squeezed Dream’s hand instinctively. He inhaled deeply, staring to talk again, “You know, I never thanked you before,” he started, eyelids fluttering as his expression grew more exhausted.

“For what?” Dream asked, moving his other hand to rest on George’s cheek, clutching his friend’s hand desperately.

“For always protecting me. I’m always safe when you’re here,” George beamed, giving Dream’s hand a quick squeeze, “I trust you with my life, Dream.”

Dream choked on his breath, tears that he previously held back starting to fall. He closed his eyes tight, pain tearing his heart to pieces.”I’m sorry,” he muttered almost silently, voice broken, “I’m so, so sorry.”

George just smiled, looking at Dream tiredly, “I think I’m going to take a nap. I really am very tired,” George mumbled, allowing his eyes to shut just as the sun disappeared from the horizon, leaving the room near black. Dream’s own eyes snapped open, looking at his friend, panic and desperation covering his features.

“No, George. Stay with me, Please stay here!” he shouted at him. His fingers grasped George's hand in an iron grip, other hand moving from his face to his shoulder in an attempt to shake him awake, “Please, you can’t fall asleep.”   
  
But George couldn’t hear his cries, already gone.His breathing shallowed then finally stopped, leaving him still and silent on his bed. Dream stayed by his side for quite a while, still their long after the sun had left the two of them in the darkness. After a long while, Dream stood, knees sore from staying on the ground for so long. His tears had long since dried, leaving dry, salty streaks in their wake. Dream picked up his mask, sliding it back over his face where it sat comfortably, though he didn’t need it to hide any expression. Underneath his face was blank, his emerald eyes dull and lifeless. He plucked a flower from a vase and stared at it a moment. He carried it over to where George’s body lay and set it beside him. Before he left, he peered back at the closet he saw what had initially caught his attention when he had entered the room. George’s crown lay on the ground, having fallen from his head when he was hidden by whoever murdered him. Dream approached the object, picking it up and peering at it. He could just see the white reflection of his mask on the surface staring back at him blankly. He tucked it in his satchel and then without a word he left the room.

His footsteps echoed in the still empty hallways. The royal guard must have known about the rebellion by now, probably fighting in the name of the fallen king.

Dream pushed his way out of the castle, looking out over the fallen kingdom.

Smoke filled the sky, fire spreading through the town below clogging up the clear starry night. The round face of the moon shone down, watching as the chaos ensued. There was no longer a point in protecting this place. There was no longer a reason to be here. So Dream turned and walked away from the burning town. It had no need for him, a fallen knight.

Clutching a fallen crown.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya.  
> Sorry.  
> Leave a kudos and a comment.  
> Have a nice day


End file.
